Mulling It Over

So I haven't been writing to Time every week, but I am trying to write frequently. So here is this weeks letter.

Dear Editor:

Concerning the article "How to Fix No Child Left Behind," I
praise Wallis and Steptoe for finding the positive attribute of NCLB,
which is the spotlight the law has put on the discrepancies in
learning that still exist between social class and race in our
country. It is my hope that we are on our way to mending these flaws.
However, Wallis and Steptoe could have put a more effort into
delving into the deep hurt that this law is putting on actual learning
in this country. Doing well on an exam in no way reflects how well
students comprehend and retain material. The reasons students are
doing well on the tests are largely due to these drill sessions like
the "Super Saturdays" mentioned in the article. Rote memorization and
cramming are poor substitutes for comprehension. With every year that
we descend into NCLB, teachers are forced to include additional
material into the already loaded school year, which leads to coverage
and a mere survey of the subject matter, not depth.
Finally, until the United States as a whole values education we
will be stunted in the gains we could make regardless of what law is
currently governing education. An educational institution, no matter
how effective can ever replace the qualities instilled in children at
home.

I'm beginning to hate spring. It's never been my favorite season; I'm really more of a fall person, but now I really don't like spring at all. I really shouldn't blame this on spring herself. It's not her fault that she falls at a horrible time of year for me. For the last three springs, I've had to apply for jobs. For the last three springs I've spent my days and nights applying for jobs only to be continually shot down. In the last week, I have sent ten, that's right ten application packets out.

For those of you who haven't applied for a job lately and especially a teaching job it is a whole lot of paper work. If someone were to steal one of my applications they could steal my entire identity. You need college transcripts, your teaching license, references, a heart felt cover letter, and a resume. My resume in my mind is some sort of magnum opus due to the amount of time I have spent with it over the last three years. I've cared for it and nurtured it, added to it as frequently as possible. It's high time for it to give something back to me, namely a job.

If I don't get a job, I'm going to give up teaching at least while I'm here NH and try something else for awhile. It' s not what I want to do, but I need a job that pays on a regular basis. Not getting a job would lead to me having to apply for other jobs in what would most likely the business sector. An office is basically the antithesis of who I am. I hate punching a clock and being inside in all day.

Ahh I shouldn't be so down on spring; It's really not her fault after all.

I am not a person of precision. I enjoy things where there is a little wiggle room. I crochet instead of knitting, because with knitting you have to do it just so or you get a hole. When you crochet you can easily fudge things, and when you have completed the project only the most attentive eye would be able to find the flaw. In English as compared to math, there are many correct ways of doing something; answers, overall, are subjective. If you can convince your reader of your point, whether the point is correct in their mind or not, you still get credit for it. Cooking is something else I enjoy. A little of this, a little of that, taste it - if it is good move on you've done your job.

Now, however, I have come to something that I must conquer. Bread. Bread on the whole seems simple. The actions you take are simple. The ingredients are items most people have in their homes. Wheat is one of the most prevalent things in the world. But bread or at least yeast is fussy. It hates me. Yeast is like a sickly, little kid that needs to be coddled and have it's hand held constantly. I know there are people who can whip up a loaf of bread with ease. I am not one of them.

After working slowly, after following the recipe in a most exact way, I managed to come up with something very similar to bread. It tastes good and looks ok. It still will not rise it the rounded shape that I would like. This may have something to do with the way I shape the dough into loaves. As I had feared this may be one of those aspects of life that requires practice.

So as it may be noticed I've taken a bit of a hiatus from the writing scene, but I am back. I've decided one way to make myself write more is to set mini-goals. One of these is to write a letter to Time every week until they publish me. So here is the first installment.

To the Editor of Time:
I'm a 24 year old biracial woman, and I just want to say "Don Imus I'm not mad at you." Now before anyone gets all heated, let me just say maybe Mr. Imus made a poor decision, but so what? As an English major and a writer, I understand the power of words, and I want the power to say and write them. I believe in free speech. Free speech does not mean you can say what you like as long I agree with you. In fact, I think the beauty for free speech are the opposing views that are aired. We need to move out of this fever of offense that we have all settled into and get a grip. Whatever happened to sticks and stones?

When it comes down to it most people wouldn't have even heard the "offensive statement." if everyone had not gotten all flustered. Racism, hate speech, whatever you want to call it wouldn't be half as powerful if everyone just chill out and stop repeating every little thing they hear that they don't like.

So Don Imus, while I don't support you or what you say I wholly support your right to say it.